The Bat and the Spider
by Sparky-ykrapS
Summary: While fighting the Vulture, Spiderman (AKA Peter Parker) finds that this isn't a normal fight. When the rest of the Sinister Six comes into play, the Spider accidentally steps into a portal thinking it's one of Mysterio's illusions. Now, he's in Gotham with no money, no help, and absolutely no clue as to how he's going to get home. [Rated T 'cause I'm paranoid]
1. Gotham Sounds Sort of Gothic

After the battle between the Sinister Six, Peter didn't expect to wake up in an alley, fully drenched by rain that was pouring down. He slowly stood up. Glancing around, he noticed that the area around him was covered in broken beer bottles, tossed cans, and a bunch of other stuff. He rose to his feet. He frowned. "Karren, where are we?"

"My scanners cannot detect that, sir." The familiar robotic voice told him.

Now, usually he was against stealing. However, when he was dressed in his Spiderman suit and had no other change of clothing, he realized he had no other option. He decided he would only steal one thing from a person. You know, a pair of socks from one guy, a shirt from another, a pair of shoes from some other dude, and most importantly, some pants from another random person. He looked down at the clothing. The pants were a little tight, the shirt a little large, and the shoes just a bit snug, but he decided it was better than nothing.

He honestly did let some people off from stealing. Like that one kid he'd caught sneaking out of his neighbors window. He confronted the boy, and the boy placed the stuff back into the house, but not before Peter, or rather Spiderman, gave the kid a fifty. He looked like he needed it.

He promised himself that he would steal as little as possible. He'd tried taking the shirt, pants, and shoes at the back of the closet, and nobody ever really missed socks that much. So here he was, wearing a plain grey t-shirt, light blue jeans, and brown tennis shoes that looked like they'd seen better days. His suit was underneath, the sleeves rolled up so you couldn't tell it was there, and his gloves and mask in his pants pocket.

He walked into a fast-food place, asking for a job. They declined, saying that if he couldn't bring a birth certificate, he didn't have a job. It was pretty much the same everywhere he looked. He then saw a couple of people of young ladies struggling to lift some boxes into a home. Well, more like they were struggling to lift some of the furniture. The two of them were trying to lift a huge couch, and could barely pick it up more than an inch.

"Need any help?" Peter offered, walking up to them.

"Uh, sure. Thanks." One of the girls replied, and they both slowly set the couch down. "You think you could take that side, and we'll take this one?"

"Yeah, I could do that." Peter walked over to the side that the girl had left as she walked to the other side. They lifted it into the house, and the two of them arranged it to their liking as Peter kind of just stood there awkwardly. "So, do you need any more help?"

"If you want, you can help us get some of the appliances in, but other than that, we should be good." The other woman spoke up this time. Peter then noticed the fact that they both had matching wedding rings. They walked over to the truck.

"So, how long have you two been together?" Peter asked.

"Well, we've only been married for two weeks, but we met about three years ago." The first woman smiled slightly.

"Well, you make a lovely couple." Peter smiled back. As soon as they'd finished getting the appliances in, they sat at the couch, and chatted for a few more minutes. Peter learned that their names were Sophie and Lizzie.

"Well, I should probably get going." Peter stood up.

"Okay. Well, thanks for the help." Lizzie smiled slightly.

"Feel free to stop by any time you need to." Sophie added.

"I will, thanks!" Peter smiled, walking out the door with a final wave. He walked down the street. He'd learned a bit about where he was. Apparently, the town was Gotham City, and the place was incredibly crime ridden.

Peter debated becoming Spiderman for a while, but eventually decided against it. Maybe, if he saw something going down, but he wouldn't go looking for trouble.


	2. The Itsy Bitsy Spider

Peter walked through the streets of Gotham, still wearing the clothes. He felt pretty bad about stealing them, and he'd remembered where he'd taken them from so that once he got the money, he could put them back. He had thought about taking a picture or two for the local newspaper, but then thought better of it. He didn't want to steal a camera too.

He walked down the streets with hopelessness. A second later, his spidey senses went crazy. He looked around, trying to see where the danger was coming from. A second later, the building across the street went up in flames. Without thinking about it, Peter ran to the nearest alley, taking off the clothing and placing the gloves and mask on. He put the clothes behind the dumpster, and let out a rope and flung into the building. When he got there, he was definitely not expecting to see Otto Octavius, better known as Doctor Octopus.

"Whoa, what are you doing here?" Peter landed down on the ground in front of him.

"Hello, little spider..." Otto gave him a smirk. Out of nowhere, one of his arms sprang at Spiderman. He dodged, thanks to his spider sense, swinging the arm to hit Octavius. He staggered backward a little, but other than that, was unfazed. "Oh please, you're off your game."

His spider sense went off again, but before he could turn around, he felt talons grab his arms. He was lifted up before he even had the chance to do anything, and flown out of the building. He didn't need to turn around to know that it was the Vulture who had grabbed him. That much was obvious. Where he was taking him, now that was the true question.

Once he got to the harbor, he realized pretty quick. He was planning to drop him off into the ocean. Good thing Tony had reinstalled his parachute for him...

That was it! Why had he not thought of it before! He could contact Tony! Maybe Tony could figure this thing out. But at the moment, he needed a plan. Vulture let go, and he started plummeting. "KArrEn! DepLoy tHe ParAcHutE!" He shouted as he came closer and closer to the water.

"Right away sir." Karren responded. Not a second later, the parachute formed out of the webbing, slowing the fall as he slowly descended towards the harbor.

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 **Same Time as when this chapter began-**

Dick Grayson, AKA Nightwing, was on patrol duty with Jason. Jason had tried to insist that he could do it alone, but Bruce had said he wanted Dick there to make sure he didn't kill anyone, which to be fair, was a pretty good argument. Now he was stuck watching Jason as he was cleaning his guns.

"You realize-"

"I'm not gonna shoot them in any vital organs." Jason frowned, cutting Dick off before he could finish his sentence. Before much else could be said, they saw a building explode. Without a word, both of them raced towards the building. Just as they got there, some sort of flying dude had lifted a kid in a red suit out, but there was still some other guy with a bunch of arms.

"I'll go after metal arms, you go make sure the kids safe." Dick whispered to Jason, who nodded. As Jason ran behind flying dude, Dick shot out towards the guy with the arms.

"Ah, a new contestant! What? Shield decided the Avengers weren't dangerous enough?" The man gave a cruel smirk.

"What's shield?" Dick asked, genuinely curious.

"Oh, so you aren't affiliated with the spies. Oh well, guess I'll have to kill you anyways." The man shrugged, one of his arms flying straight for him. Dick easily dodged, mocking a yawn.

"Honestly, that's the fourth 'I'm going to kill you' speech I've heard all week." Dick shook his head, throwing a bird-a-rang at the joint of the metallic thing, causing it to shut down. The guy looked pretty surprised, yet he surprised him with an arm from behind. "And it's only Tuesday!"

Nightwing was pretty well stuck between the arms. He wriggled around, but he couldn't get out. "No super-strength? All well..." The man flung him towards the wall, where he went straight through it.

"Don't need it." Dick coughed out, standing up again. He pulled out his escrima sticks. He charged at the man, who had been a bit surprised at the miraculous stamina he still had after being thrown out the wall. He jumped through the whole he'd made and ran straight for him. Then, just before one of his arms could grab him, he leaped onto his back, smashing the joints to the arms, thus making them utterly useless. He handcuffed the weird man before leaving him for the cops.

He made it to the top of a building before he put a finger to his ear. "Jason, where are you?" He asked.

"Little busy, Dick." Jason heaved, splashing noises coming through the intercom.

"Are you...swimming?" Nightwing asked, raising an eyebrow even though Jason couldn't see it.

"The jerk dropped him off in the harbor." Jason curtly explained, pushing through.

"Is he okay?" Dick asked, slightly concerned.

"Got to hand it to the kid, he's smart. Had a parachute that slowed his fall. He's still unconscious though, it didn't slow him much, but he's breathing." Jason explained.

"Good. Which side of the harbor are you on?" Dick asked.

"East side, by the cliffs." Jason explained.

"I'll go get batwing and pick you up, it's too rocky for an ambulance and medical staff won't get there in time." Dick frowned, hopping onto his motorcycle and heading for the nearest of the entrances to the cave.

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Jason finally pulled the kid in the red and blue web-designed suit up to the edge. "Dumb kid..." He muttered. This wasn't the first kid to leap unprepared into battle, most trying to impress Batman. However, he had to admit that the suit was cutting edge.

"You appear to have become unconscious. Pulse is low. Breathing regulations, normal." A mechanical voice sounded, startling Jason. He swiftly pulled out one of his pistols, sighing in relief as he realized it was just the kids suit, which Jason noticed was much better than he'd originally thought.

He looked up as he heard the familiar sound of the batwing soaring through the sky. It slowed to a stop, opening the hatch and throwing down a rope ladder. The kid began to move a little, which was a good sign. He threw the kid over his shoulder, climbing the ladder as quickly as he could.

When up at the top, Tim was flying, while Dick had laid out a cot. They placed him on it, and only seconds later, he bolted up, gasping. He felt his face, and with an obvious sigh of relief, noticed his mask was still on. Well, mostly. Jason had lifted it up to his nose to help his breathing, but he hadn't removed the whole thing so he wouldn't cause any added damage.

The kid pulled the mask down all the way, adjusting the fix over his eyes. "Who are you people?" He looked around. "Do you work for shield?"

"What the heck is shield and why are you the second person to ask that today?" Dick frowned, leaning against the wall.

"Wait, second person?" Jason asked, his helmet making his voice sound a little weird.

"Yeah, Mr. Metal Arms back there asked about him too." Dick glared.

"Doctor Octopus?" The kid widened his eyes.

"Who?" Dick blinked.

"Weird guy, four metal arms attached to his back...Usually walks on them to make himself taller, sound familiar?" The kid starred at them, probably frowning under his mask.

"Almost at the hospital." Tim's voice sounded from the cockpit.

"Hospital?" The kid's eyes widened in panic. "No, I can't go there! They'll take off the mask! The only people who even know are Mr. Stark and Ned! Well, that and probably shield, but that's not the point...They'll put me on the news for sure!" He jumped up.

"We're taking you to the hospital. Look, kid, you aren't the first person who's tried to go hero, and I'm sure you won't be the last, but you are going to that hospital and then I'm going to have a long talk with your parents." Dick glarred

"Good luck with that." The kid scoffed. "Anyways, I don't know who you people are, but I am not going to the hospital. I'm sure Mr. Stark's already out searching, and once he gets word that the Sinister Six are here, he'll come too. Oh man, am I never going to hear the end of this..."

"Sinister Six? Mr. Stark? Yeah, you're going to the hospital, and I might just recommend a psych evaluation too." Nightwing shook his head from side to side.

"Then you leave me no choice." The kid glanced at the window, seeming to smirk when he caught sight of buildings. With a smirk, he surprised the three former Robins by opening the hatch and leaping out. They thought he would die for sure this time, but he threw out some sort of white grappling hook that gripped onto a building, and went swinging across the lines.

"What in the world..." The swooped in, grabbing some of the leftover stuff that was hanging on the building.

"Is that...spider webbing?" Tim frowned, turning around from the controls.

"Sure looks like it." Jason shrugged.

"Tim, head back to the cave. We have some research to do." Dick rubbed his head slightly.


	3. What's Taking Mr Stark so Long?

"Karen, you don't think I'm crazy, do you?" I asked, sitting on top of some building called Wayne Industries.

"No sir," The mechanical voice rang in my head.

"You aren't just saying that to make me feel better either, right?" I frowned.

"Lying is not in my programming."

"Listen kid, we're going to have to ask you to come with us." A slightly familiar voice sounded behind me. I quickly turned around, and sure enough, those same kids from earlier and two people I didn't recognize were standing on the building.

"Wow, you guys really are good if you can sneak up on my spider-sense." I muttered.

"Instant kill mode activated." Karen alerted me, to which I jumped back.

"Karen no! I thought we'd talked about this!" _And I thought Tony fixed this..._

"Instant kill mode deactivated." Karen seemed to deplete, which I wasn't sure was a good sign.

"Thank you!" I glared down at the suit, then back up at the people, all with weapons raised. "So not in the mood..." I grumbled. "Let's catch up later, weird stalkish people, we can chat over chimichangas or something...wait, no, not chimichangas! Anything but chimichangas! How did that word even- Wade. I should have known." I shook my head. Before they regained from their slight confusion, I jumped off the side of the building, web-slinging my way to freedom. Until they cut off my web and I landed face-first inside their cool weird plane thing. "Ow."

"Who are you?" The one dressed in black and gray walked up with an intense glare. I mean, I'd starred into the eyes of Hulk, so it wasn't that scary, but it was pretty creepy.

"Spiderman, duh!" I pointed to the insignia on my chest. "And who are you supposed to be? Batman?"

"Yes." He frowned.

"See, how hard is it to look at the insignia...well...I guess that that won't work for Iron man...or Captain America, if you think about it...or practically any Avenger...Yeah okay, I see where you were going, but still."

"Venom has a spider symbol." Karen pointed out.

"Shut up Karen, it's warped and made of symbiote." I growled.

"Instant kill mode activated."

"Will you stop doing that!"

"Instant kill mode deactivated."

"Why does the suit even have an instant kill mode?"

"Instant kill mode activated."

"No! No Karen, stop! I am having a long conversation with Tony as soon as possible. Seriously though, why?"

"Instant kill mode deactivated. I believe it is there in case you ever need to instantly kill someone, sir."

"Duh! Now look at what you've done Karen, now everyone's staring at us." I gestured to where five oddly dressed people were in fact, giving us very confused stares.

"What are you doing in Gotham?" Mr. Dark and Gloomy glared at me again.

"Look, I don't want to be here just about as much as you don't want me here. I've just got to get the Sinister Six and go home before Tony ruins everything." I crossed my arms.

"Who's Karen?" The one that had asked him who he was growled. "And who's Tony?"

"Karen's an A.I., and I get how you could've missed that, but how could you not know who Tony Stark is? I mean, the guy's Iron man, he was on the news for forever. Not to mention he's a billionaire." I was suddenly confused. I'd never met anyone who didn't know who Tony Stark was, and it had never occurred to me that someone might not.

"Nightwing, run a search for both." The one in black didn't take his eyes off of Peter.

"Already done, but there's a problem." The one he'd called Nightwing frowned. "The only Tony Stark's that are showing up are...well, they aren't billionaires, and none of them were on the news."

Before I had time to answer, the plane began to tilt. "Robin!" The one in the full red helmet yelled turning around. The plane tilted straight once again.

"Sorry...what?" I blinked. "How's that even possible? What about Captain America? Black Widow? Thor? Hawk-eye?" I spouted out names. After a shake of the head from Nightwing, I squeaked out one desperate "...Hulk?" before I realized that nobody I recognized was here. I glanced towards the door, but apparently they'd learned their lesson last time.

"Nightwing, show him all the Tony Starks that you found. See if he recognizes any of them." Nightwing walked over to me, showing me what was on his holo-watch thing. I scanned through all of them, before one caught my eye.

"That one, there." I pointed out the guy.

"You can't mean him."

"What do you mean?"

"It says here that he died back in 2008."

"That's not possible..." I rubbed my head. "I just saw him a week ago."

"Well, I kind of doubt the FBI database is wrong." He sighed. I felt like I was about to throw up. My head was spinning, and there seemed to be black dots dancing across my head.

"Can...can I go...Please?" I asked. The one in the black cape didn't seem to like it, but he sighed and opened up the door. Before he could get anywhere near a place to let me off, I jumped out. He seemed kind of shocked, as I saw him race towards the edge, but I threw a web out onto a building and went to an alleyway. I felt like I was going to pass out, and I new better than to stay in my Spiderman costume when I did so. I changed into it, grabbing "my" clothes right where I'd left them, and swapping them out. I was starting to see black dots. I quickly webbed them up on the edge of a roof, directly underneath where nobody would see them unless they looked in just the right angle.

I kind of passed out right in the alley.

I looked around me. I was in a hospital bed. I panicked for a second, thinking that maybe someone had found me in my Spiderman costume. Then the memories had come flooding back to me.

A nurse walked in, and I instantly recognized her as Sophie. "Oh! Peter, you're awake!" She smiled, though from her facial expression, she seemed surprised.

"Hey Sophie." I groaned. My head seriously hurt. Bad.

"Wow, we barely admitted you about ten minutes ago. You should've been out for at least another five hours. Not that I'm not glad you're okay, because I totally am!" She added last minute.

"Yeah, it's okay." I nodded. "So, how's Lizzie doing?" I asked, changing the subject.

"She's doing great, thanks! In fact, she's just a block away. She's the manager of The Pizza Factory down there. It's amazing, you should really try it sometime." Sophie beamed. Her and Lizzie really were perfect for each other. A doctor popped her head into the doorway.

"Jenkins, we need you in room 301 ASAP." She told her before she walked out.

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute, just have to get Peter's heartbeat." Sophie smiled, turning back over to me. She pressed a stethoscope to his back. "Okay, now I need you to take some deep breaths for me, and then out." She instructed. I did as told, then she waved a quick goodbye as she walked out of the room towards what I assumed was room 301.

I didn't waste any time getting out if there. Sorry Sophie, but I have accelerated healing, and I don't actually want you finding oit about that.

The streets if this so-called "Gotham" seemed to be getting worse and worse. I went back to the alley only to find that "Batman" had found my suit. In it's place was some sort of really sharp bat-shaped thingymobob with an attached note.

'Meet at the top of Wayne Industries 9:00. We need to talk.'

Really? How was my suit? Were they the ones who contacted the hospital?

So many questions were running through my head. None of them ended well for me. However, if I wanted my suit back, along with my chance at getting home, I guess I was going to have to go climb a building.


	4. Explanations

Climbing up the building was the easy part. The hard part? Probably the unwavering glare this Batman dude was giving me. Even though I was wearing a random ski mask that I'd found laying in an alley. Or maybe that was why he was glaring at me. Who knows.

"What are you doing in Gotham?" Batman glared.

"I want my suit back, then I'll talk." Peter glared back.

"Robin," Batman motioned, and the boy sneered as he grabbed a shoe-box that had been wrapped in newspaper, walking over to Peter and holding it out to him with obvious distaste. Peter snatched it and peered inside, sighing in relief to see the suit inside.

"Alright, I've had some time to think it over, and I think I'm in the wrong dimension." Peter frowned, placing the box on the ground by his ankle.

"The wrong dimension?" The one they'd called Robin tilted his head. "Batman, explain."

"An alternate dimension, one where a certain event changed to make it different from the world we know." Nightwing explained for him.

"I see." Robin nodded. "You may continue."

"Right...So anyways, I think the Sinister Six either dragged me here, or they followed me here, but either way, they're dangerous. Trust me." Peter used various hand motions for emphasis.

"I believe you, that four-arms guy-"

"Doc Ock,"

"Yeah, whatever, Doc Ock almost squeezed the life out of me, literally." Nightwing raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, he does that." Peter nodded in agreement, "He also has a PHD in nuclear science, so I'd keep him away from that stuff."

"And he still robs banks?"

"Well...I'm not entirely certain, but I think that he was exposed to some sort of radiation or chemical that messed with his neurological functions." Peter shrugged.

"What about the others? You said there were six of them." Batman questioned, although he was an expert on keeping his voice monotone.

"Sandman, he uh, I literally just vacuumed him up and handed him to the police, though I doubt he'd fall for that trick again. He can change his body into sand on the molecular scale, and he's gotten better since I last saw him. He's not too good against water, either." The others nodded, each soaking in the information.

"Of course Mysterio's this weird guy who wears a fishbowl over his head, one of the world's greatest mysteries. Maybe that's why they call him Mysterio? Anyways, he's just a normal guy, but he's great with illusions, and chemistry.

Electro, name sort of speaks for itself, kind of like Sandman. Electro can control electricity, kind of obvious there. And Kraven the Hunter, well, he likes his knives and potions. The dudes at least seventy, but he looks like a thirty-year-old. He's got a lot of the basic super-human abilities, mostly senses and superstrength, but even without the potions, he's an Olympic-level athlete.

I think that about covers it. My main point of concern is how we're going to get home, even after I've captured them all." Peter sighed.

"We can help with that. In the mean time, here." Batman gave him a bag. Inside was a hundred-thousand dollars, a few changes of clothing, a phone, and basic supplies. "I figured you weren't from this world the second that you pointed to Tony Stark on the database, so I took the liberty of giving you this. You don't have to tell me who you are, but I wan't you to take it. I'm not sure how long you'll be here." Batman's voice held absolutely no signs of emotion. Peter stared at the contents with shock.

"I..I...I don't know to say," Peter looked up, of course, most of his shock was hidden by the ski mask, but they didn't need to see his face to know he was definitely shocked. Batman gave a soft chuckle, which kind of scared Peter, but all five of them got into their weird plane thing and took off before he could try and deny the gift, so Peter grabbed his web-shooters and jumped, swinging over to a motel he'd seen awhile back.

Oh, and hitting a store to buy a camera, he did that too.


	5. Smile for the Pictures :)

Peter hid behind a trash can watching Batman and Robin thwart some villain named Scarecrow's plotting. Should he be helping them as Spiderman? Probably. Was he going to? No, no he was not. Besides, this was Batman's villain, Batman could take care of it. Him. Whatever.

He snapped a photo of the dynamic duo mid-fight, smirking at the surprisingly good quality of the shot. Peter had seen the shots that some people were able to get, and they weren't near this good. Perhaps none of them were brave enough to get this close to the battle?

Didn't matter, because Peter was off. He'd gotten a few shots of Nightwing, one of Red Robin, one of just Batman, and now two of Batman and Robin together. He hadn't gotten one of the guy with the red helmet yet, but he was working on finding out where to get a photo of him. Honestly, that one seemed like he might actually pose for him if he asked.

*The Next Day*

Peter shrugged, getting the pictures printed out at a store so he could find a newspaper or something.

"Whoa, how'd you get those pictures?" Some guy with black hair and blue eyes asked from behind him in line.

"I'm just that good, although I swear Nightwing knew I was there." Peter smiled, waiting for the pictures to print. The guy smirked.

"My names Richard Grayson, by the way." He held out a hand, "But you can call me Dick."

"Peter Parker," Peter introduced himself after shaking hands.

"I don't think I've ever seen pictures that good before in any papers or anything." Dick raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I haven't gotten the courage to do it yet I guess." Peter shrugged. It had been a full month since he'd gotten the camera, but to avoid pure suspicion, he hadn't started getting pictures yet.

"Interesting." Dick nodded along. "Just be careful out there,"

"I'll be fine," Peter nodded, looking over to see that the pictures were done printing. He'd gotten a few copies of each. "Here," He handed Dick a picture of Batman and Robin fighting together.

"Really?" Dick blinked. "Well, at least let me pay you for it." Dick reached into his wallet.

"There's really no need-"

"I insist," Dick gave him a fifty-dollar bill.

"This much?" Peter looked at it in slight awe.

"Yeah, don't worry about it." Dick smirked at his shocked expression.

"Thank you..." Peter placed the fifty in his back pocket. Peter left the store. Some guy in line had been willing to pay fifty whole dollars for a simple picture?

Walking back to his hotel room, Peter set the pictures inside a drawer along with the fifty. He glanced at his temporary room, then at the closet that concealed his suit. He put it on, deciding that he was going to patrol around. Glancing out the window, he noticed it was just past sundown. Perfect.

"Karen, where are we headed?" Peter smirked.

"It appears that the one they call Joker is currently making a threat to the entire city." Karen responded.

"Well, he's not going through with it on my watch," Peter smirked, clambering out the window then firing a web to the next building, slinging across the buildings towards Gotham Square.


	6. Mercenary Mayhem

It had been a full month since Peter had started taking pictures, and still nothing on how he'd get home. He'd decided to just screw it and get an apartment. Besides, it wasn't like they could just up and track him once he found a way home.

He'd even gotten a 'fake' I.D., which was surprisingly easy to get. Of course, most of the information was correct, other than he was supposedly eighteen instead of sixteen, but you know, at least he had a good cause. Most people who got fake I.D.'s were criminals, or runaways, or wanted to go to a rated R movie that they knew their parents would never agree to, that sort of thing. Most people who got fake I.D.'s were not trapped in another dimension.

Of course, the I.D. had the name Peter Parker. He also had a fake birth certificate, along with other stuff.

Not to mention that in the newspapers payed good money for quality pictures of Batman and other vigilantes. A heck of a lot more than he'd gotten at the Daily Bugle, that was for sure.

Peter's apartment wasn't too fancy, though it wasn't too horrible either. He'd gotten a fairly good deal with an apartment that wasn't in bad condition for pretty cheep with the promise that he'd take family photos for the landlord every once in a while, which Peter didn't find too bad a compromise.

Furniture had also been fairly easy to obscure. He'd gotten a used two-seater couch at a garage sail for only $50.75, and an old box TV for even less. He had bought a used mattress for fairly cheap too, and hadn't bothered to get any sort of box spring or headboards to go with it, just sleeping on the mattress alone. Well, with some sheets and blanket that is.

Currently, Peter was watching the news in his Spiderman suit, looking for any news on any of the Sinister Six. Octavius had broken out of prison not long ago too, which didn't make him feel any better. They were plotting something, Peter could practically smell it.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Peter panicked, still dressed in his Spiderman suit and without a mask. "Just a minute!" He called out, rushing into his bedroom and into the closet, pulling out a pair of slightly faded blue jeans and a plain gray long-sleeved shirt and slipping it over-top before making it to the door.

It was a pizza-man. "Uh...I didn't order a pizza." Peter blinked, confused.

"Are you Peter Parker?" The man frowned. Peter nodded slowly, eyebrows narrowed. "Well, uh...it was ordered by someone else for you, I guess. Some dude named Wade?"

"Wade?" Peter was suddenly alert. "Wade Wilson?"

"Yeah, I think that's what he said his name was. Why?" The pizza-man frowned.

No! Everything had been fine until this! Why? Why was the universe spitting in his face. Not wanting to have to tell tales of the fact that Wade was a mercenary known for his never-ending babble talk, he decided on something different. "Just thought he'd send gift wrapped El Monterey Chimichangas or something." It wasn't all that much of a lie, even if it was sort of meant as one. Wow Wade, way to announce your presence. Peter'd honestly expected a little more Huzzah from the infamous Merc with a Mouth.

Hey, he should be more grateful for the pizza! I demand Justice!

 **Be grateful I'm even letting you into this story, and quite breaking the fourth wall so that the readers can finish the chapter they waited almost two months for!**

You made them wait for two months for this? I've killed people for less!

 **Just shut up and let me finish writing this chapter!**

What's the magic word?

 **Abracadabra, Deadpool is gone... Wow, I can't believe that actually worked...**

I'm being nice to the readers. You should try it sometime. 

**You insolent-**

* _Meanwhile back in the story..._ * (Insert brought to you by Portal Potato, who was reading Sparky's unpublished chapters again)

"Ah, the pizza arrived! About time, after that awful excuse of a recap." And there was the said mercenary, sliding in through his window. Uninvited, Peter might add. Though he was a bit confused about the recap thing.

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked, mentally sighing.

"Visiting my favorite Spider-pal." Peter cringed.

"I'm not your pal, Wade." He raised an eyebrow.

"Now that just hurts my feelings," Wade was probably giving a mock frown, but it was hard to tell with the mask.

Peter was about to reply with 'What feelings?' when he thought better of it. Maybe, if he ignored Wade long enough, he'd simply go away. He took about four slices of pizza, but who was counting, and sat in his, his!, couch and watched TV while pretending not to notice Wade obviously going through his things behind him.

"Dude, you need to go grocery shopping!" Wade interrupted, looking at the mostly empty fridge. "All you have in here is sandwich makings, eggs, and milk. Wait a second, you don't even have eggs! It's just a carton!" Wade exclaimed. Okay, so maybe he was right, it had been a while.

"Fine, I'll go _Aunt Wade,_ " Peter rolled his eyes, getting up. He'd almost forgotten he was still in his Spiderman suit underneath the clothing, but he figured it wouldn't show anyways, so he put on some shoes and socks, and was about to walk out the door when another exclamation from Wade came through.

"I'm coming too! Wait for me!" Peter was about to just leave without him as Wade went into Peter's bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him, but Wade added something at the last minute. "I've got a car!"

As much as Peter wanted to just leave without Wade, he realized that a car would make it much easier carry the groceries and he could get more than he'd been getting at one time. With a sigh, Peter plummeted onto the couch in defeat. Wade came out wearing his, his!, clothes. They fit him a bit snug though, and looked skin-tight. Peter scowled, getting up. He could only hope Wade wasn't wearing his underwear too. If he was even wearing underwear. Peter shuddered at the though.

"You stole it, didn't you." It wasn't a question. No way would Wade have been able to afford that car with just the money he'd had in his pockets, if he even had any money. Wade gave Peter a grin anyways, and flipped the keys in his hands.

"I took the keys from some dead guy in an alley," Peter grimaced. Really, Wade? Couldn't you just have not mentioned that?

"How'd you get here anyways?" Peter frowned.

"Oh, I've been here the whole time," Wade had started driving into the streets of the traffic-ridden rush hour Gotham. "I was doing a job in New York when I saw you, and I jumped into that wormhole thing you fell into because it looked fun and I ended up here,"

Peter sighed. He'd really hoped Wade had come here somehow else. If so, then he might know how to get them back, but apparently not. Peter had brought his camera, a last minute item he'd decided to grab as he had taken a few pictures of heroes the day before, finally getting a good one of the one that Peter had found out was called 'Red Hood.'

Red Hood did not pose like Peter had initially thought he would, and instead to play a game of cat and mouse before he actually let him get a good shot. Peter decided that he'd been testing how determined he was for that picture.

* _Meanwhile, at the grocery store_ * (Another insert brought you by the one and only Potato with a Portal in front)

Wade and Peter finally made it to the grocery store, where they then took another five minutes trying to find a place to part. Peter was beginning to lose it after being stuck in the car that long with Wade.

"Kill the lights, kill the actor, kill the actress!~" Wade was singing at the top of his lungs as they walked out of the car. "Or kill us all!"

"Please, stop!" Peter groaned. People were starring at them now... Of course, Wade payed no attention, finishing out the song before he got distracted by the blue things in front of the Walmart they'd ended up at and twirling around with them. Sometimes, Peter wondered who the legal adult here was. Actually, scratch the sometimes. He couldn't remember a time when Wade had ever been serious.

They had gone the first fifteen or so minutes without a single problem, but of course Wade had to go to the gun storage place thingy. Only in Gotham would they sell handguns at Walmart. Of course, you couldn't have a criminal record or anything to buy them, but that really never stopped a lot of people.

"Peter. Peter, can we get that one!" Wade pointed to a black handgun with what appeared to be that symbol Batman had on his chest engraved on the side.

"Wade, you don't need another gun!" Peter pointed out, glaring.

"But I want this gun! How often do I get the chance to get one with a bat symbol engraved in it? Please, Peter! I'll pay you back!" Wade had actually gotten on his knees to beg.

"Fine, but only because you'll bug me about it for the next fifty years of my life." Peter looked at the price tag, and handed Wade a total of $600 cash and waited as he got the gun. Wade came back with a triumphant smirk.

"He said we can pick it up when we leave, they don't let people carry guns around the store." He shrugged. "I said I'd pay him when I got it," He added.

The last thing Peter expected to hear was someone calling his name. He turned around to see the guy he'd met about a month ago. Walmart really brought people together, didn't it? What had his name again? He felt bad about forgetting as he approached with three other guys, all with black hair and blue eyes with varying ages. It had started with a D... Danny? Donald? No, it was shorter than that. Perhaps just Dan? No, that wasn't it. Drake? No, but that was closer... Dick? Yeah, that was it! Dick! And just in time because the small group had reached him.

Wade turned around, curious. "Ooh, you made friends and you didn't tell me!" Wade smiled widely.

"Dude, I didn't even know you were in town until you broke into my house and started raiding my fridge...and closet." Peter crossed his arms, closing his eyes as he let out a sigh. Dick and the rest of the mini-Dick's looked a bit confused. They also looked at Wade's face, though it wasn't disgust, more curiosity.

"Anyways, have you gotten any more pics of Batman, or any of the others?" Dick changed the subject.

"Yeah, actually. I'm partly here for that reason, and Wade decided I needed more food." He glared at said man, who gave him a mock innocent look.

"I also decided I need clothes." Wade added.

"Dude, first the handgun, now more clothes, what next, a pinata?" Peter sighed.

"Now that you mention it-"

"NO!" Peter cut him off before he could even finish that sentence.

"Aw come on, I bought you pizza!" Wade gave him another pleading look.

"Yeah, and I bought you a handgun! Which, buy the way, you owe me 600 bucks, and no, I don't mean deer because I know you'd actually do that." Peter argued. Peter hadn't noticed it, but two of the mini-Dick's had started arguing as well, and the real Dick was trying to break them up. The one that didn't entirely look like a mini-Dick, the one with the white strip in his hair, looked actually somewhat intrigued by the mention of a handgun.

"Dude, what kind of gun was it?" He asked.

"I don't know," Wade shrugged.

"You bought a gun and you didn't even know what kind it was?" Peter's eyes shot up like a rocket. Not Rocket rocket, but rocket rocket.

"Yeah, but I'm sure it'll work against ninja's anyways," Wade shrugged.

"Why on Earth would you need it against ninja's?" Peter raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Peter, let me tell you a story-" Wade was about to pull him away.

"Here, Dick, I'll give you my phone number so we can talk later, okay?" Peter was about to grab a scrap of paper he had left over from something or other, but Dick just handed him his phone, still trying to break the mini-Dick's up. Peter entered his number into the phone, adding himself as a contact. "Bye,"

"Bye!" Was Dick's quick response. Somehow the other two were still fighting.

"We'll talk about guns later!" Wade added to the one with the white strip who gave him a light smile and a thumbs up before watching the two boys fight while laughing.


	7. Holy Pancakes!

When Peter and Wade got back to the apartment with a small wardrobe for Wade, some food, and a few blankets and pillows, Peter decided he was going to have to lay down a few ground rules.

"Alright Wade, listen up." Peter sat on one of the chairs with his hands folded over each other as he leaned towards the couch where Wade had plopped himself down.

"You're going to lay down some ground rules?" Wade asked.

"How did you- nevermind, I really don't want to know. Okay, rule number one: I'm not paying for anything for you after now. You want something, you get it yourself. Rule number two: No stealing-"

"Steal? In Gotham? With Batman around? I might be able to heal from everything, but I don't want to get on _his_ bad side, thank you very much." Wade interrupted before Peter could finish his sentence with a scoff.

"What about the car?" Peter blinked, confused.

"I stole that from some guy Metropolis," Wade winked, his hands behind his head as he lay down on couch.

"No killing people either," Peter added, rolling his eyes.

"Why would I kill people if I'm not stealing anything?" Wade smirked.

"Why'd you get the handgun?" Peter frowned, not liking where this was going one bit.

"Like I said, where else am I going to get a handgun with a bat engraved in it?" Wade explained with yet another wink.

"Moving on!" Peter declared, going back to his set of rules. "Rule three, you aren't allowed in my room."

"Not even for pranks?" Wade gave a mock look of hurt.

"Definitely not for pranks," Peter practically growled, becoming ever so much more annoyed.

"Argh, fine!" Wade sighed dramatically.

"Rule four: You have to help clean up the apartment and stuff. Rule five: Try and get yourself a job if at all possible, because you're going to help pay rent. And finally, rule six: I can make any more rules if I need to." Peter crossed his arms.

"Okay, okay, sounds reasonable." Wade nodded along. "Where am I sleeping though?"

"On the couch. I'll talk to the landlord about getting a two-bedroom if you can get a job," Peter spoke with exhaustion in his voice.

"What do you mean 'if' I can get a job?" Wade stated defensively with mock hurt. "Is it because of my face?"

"No, it's because you're so annoying you'll probably get fired your first day." Peter rolled his eyes, going straight for his bedroom.

"Wait! Where am I going to put my clothes?" Wade asked worriedly.

"There's a coat closet by the front door, just take anything of mine and throw it in my room," Peter sighed, closing his door and sitting on his bed with a sigh of relief. He decided to just go to bed.

*The Next Day*

After Peter awoke, he grabbed his phone that had been plugged in and looked slightly surprised to see that he had about three text messages on it. Looking through it, he saw they were all from the same unknown number. He opened it up and read them.

 _Hi_

 _It's Dick_

 _Grayson_

He was confused before he remembered that he'd given him his number at Walmart yesterday. He decided to text him back.

 _Hi_

He was even more surprised with the fact that he'd texted back almost immediately after he'd sent it.

 _How are you?_

He was about to reply when Wade threw open his door and dumped a few coats and shoes into his room and left. "Wade! Shut the door!" Peter complained. "Wade? Wade! Shut the freakin' door!"

"I'm busy!" Was Wade's response from the hallway by the door where he was organizing his personal closet. With a few unkind words and grumbles, Peter got up and closed the door himself before returning to his conversation with Dick.

P: _Wade's being annoying, but that's usual. Other than that I'm fine._

D: _Who's Wade again?_

P: _The guy that was with me at Walmart. He's my uncle._

Peter didn't exactly know why he'd put that Wade was his uncle, but it was as good excuse as any. Besides, that way he wouldn't have as much explaining about why he was letting some seemingly random guy crash at his apartment to his landlord.

D: _Oh, cool._

P: _Not really. He kind of broke into my apartment, raided my fridge, decided I needed more stuff, and now he's crashing on my couch._

D: _Wait, what? He broke into your apartment?_

P: _Yep. He sent a pizza man to tell me he was in town, then a few seconds later he popped in through my window._

D: _Interesting_

P: _Yeah, I guess_

D: _Does he do that often or..._

P: _You have no idea_

D: _Huh. That's kind of...weird, I guess._

Ha! They have no idea that I know they're talking about me! 

***Groans* I knew I'd made a mistake letting you into this story...**

Can't get rid of me now! 

**That's the problem you-**

 _*Back to the actual story* (Yes, it's another thing put in by Portal Potato. I insisted because I'm reading this over her shoulder as she writes.)_

P: _I told him he's not allowed in my room. I have a frying pan just in case though._

D: _Haha!_

P: _Wait, so who were you with at Walmart earlier?_

D: _My brothers. Jason, Tim, and Damian._

P: _Cool._

D: _Wait, so how old are you?_

P: _Oh, I'm 18._

D: _Cool. I'm 23, but Jason's 18, and Tim's 14. Damian's only 10 though._

Suddenly, Peter's spidey-sense kicked in. It wasn't something hurling towards him, more a...disturbance. He looked around a few seconds before he realized what it was. There, sitting on the wall, was a huge black spider, only a little smaller than his palm. He squealed, grabbed his phone and ran out of the room screaming "Kill it, kill it!"

"Kill who?" Deadpool asked nonchalantly.

"Not who, what!" Peter hid under the small table in the small space that was his dining room and looked back down at his conversation with Dick.

P: _My room has been infiltrated by an arachnid intruder. I'm sending Wade in to kill it._

Hey, author person, what am I supposed to do? Should I just...shoot it?

 **Nah, just squish the thing with a shoe or something.**

Hey, how come Peter's afraid of spiders?

 **I'll tell you at the end, okay? Now get back to the story already.**

( _Sorry, Portal can't give an insert right now, she's busy, but I'll right one for her)_

D: _You're afraid of spiders?_

P: _We have a long and complicated history._

Peter decided he'd better leave out the whole 'spiders can sense that I've got spider DNA, and a lot of spiders don't like other spiders very well and may try to eat me' part out. All he knew was that he hated spiders, and spiders hated him. So what if he dressed up in a Spiderman costume? They still hated him!

D: _Really now?_

Peter could practically hear Dick laughing on the other side of the phone. He may not be able to say too much about it all, but he could add something to justify himself.

P: _I got bit by a spider once. I got pretty sick, and I even passed out._

D: _I guess that makes sense then._

P: _Yeah._

"Hey Peter, I killed it!" Wade called from his bedroom. Peter walked back in and looked straight back at the wall and back at Wade.

"Thanks, now get out of my room." Peter watched as he left, leaving the door open once again. He inwardly groaned and closed the door himself before plopping back down on the mattress that rested on the floor.

P: _It's all God now, Wade killed it_

 _*good, stupid auto-correct_

D: _Alright then :)_

"Hey Peter, I'm making pancakes for dinner!" Wade called from the kitchen.

"Okay, whatever!" Peter called back, turning back to his phone. He looked back through his previous texts for a moment.

P: _Hey, so I just realized that you asked me how I was doing, and then I never asked about you. So, how are you doing?_

D: _Oh, I'm fine. I kinda sprained my ankle, but I'm okay._

P: _You did? How!_

D: _Tripped_

P: _Sprained ankles are the worst._

D: _I personally think broken bones are worse, but yeah, they're a pain._

P: _Oh, right, broken bones are definitely worse._

As Peter and Dick kept talking, he couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness. He missed talking to Ned. Ned would always text an 'Are you okay?' if he saw a clip about Spiderman doing something dangerous on the news. Of course, Peter'd always reply with 'Yeah,' because, well, he usually was. And even if he wasn't, so long as it wasn't broken or didn't need to be set or something, his healing factor would keep it from being too big of a deal. Of course, it was nothing compared to Wade's, but it was still there.

D: _I'll be right back, Jason and Tim are fighting about who knows what, and Bruce isn't home._

P: _Bruce?_

D: _Bruce Wayne?_

P: _I have no idea who that is._

D: _Huh. Just google him._

P: _Okay...?_

Dick didn't respond, and Peter assumed it was because he'd gone to make the other two stop fighting. He decided to google Bruce Wayne as his newfound friend had suggested. He got tons of pictures and news articles about the man. He read through some of them, finding out that Dick was actually his adoptive son, Tim. Damian was his actual blood son, but nobody knew who his mother was. He hadn't read anything that mentioned Jason, but he figured that Jason was probably adopted too.

He kept looking through different articles, then he decided that if Dick's dad had this many photos, then Dick himself might have a few, and then he could have a picture for his contacts. So, he found one of Dick glaring down at something, probably his younger brother. He added that as the new picture for his contact information.

A little over two hours had passed by and Peter had begun to wonder why Wade hadn't called him in to eat the pancakes he'd said he'd been making. So, he walked over to the door. He could smell the pancakes, so maybe he just hadn't heard him call him in.

As soon as he opened the door, his jaw dropped. Wade was in full costume, apparently preferring that over his regular clothes, flipping pancakes at the stove. Not very jaw-dropping. No, what was jaw-dropping were the piles upon piles of pancakes already made. There were about ten plates laid out with huge piles on each of them.

"What the- Wade!" Peter yelled. The man turned around, still expertly flipping his pancake.

"What? I said I was making pancakes." Wade turned back to the stove.

"Do you even know how many pancakes you have!" Peter stared at the piles in absolute horror.

"237." Wade placed his newest pancake on the pile and added a new bout of batter into the pan. "238,"

"We can't eat all of this!" Peter closed his eyes, hoping that perhaps this was some sort of twisted dream.

"Hey, you're lucky! I once made 372,6844 pancakes at once. Smelled like victory." Wade, or rather Deadpool as he was in costume, wiped a fake tear from his face. As soon as that was said, he grabbed his newest pancake. As he poured the next pancake into the pan, he muttered a "239..."

"Why? Why would you do this?" Peter clutched his head. Wade simply shrugged. Peter's phone dinged right at that second, alerting him that Dick had probably texted him back.

D: _Hey, I'm back. Sorry it took so long, I kind of got punched in the face._

P: _Ouch. Hey, you wouldn't happen to want any pancakes, would you?_

D: _Why?_

"Hey, D P, drop down, I wanna take a picture!" Peter yelled at the cook, who took off his mask to pose with his pancakes, adding the one he'd been cooking to the pile. Peter rolled his eyes, snapped the picture, careful not to get Wade's costume in it, and sent it to Dick.

D: _Holy cow! What?!_

P: _There's about 240. We need help._

D: _Do you think you could transport them here? I've got a butler who I'm sure would love to not have to cook tonight, and three brothers who could help eat that._

P: _I think so_

D: _Great. You've got GPS, right?_

P: _Yeah_

D: _Just plug Stately Wayne Manor in and it should show up._

P: _K_

"Alright, Wade. We're bagging these up and heading to Wayne Manor." Peter announced. He grabbed some Walmart bags and began plopping the pancakes inside them. It took twenty-six to fit all the pancakes inside. Wade was about to walk straight out the door before Peter yelled at him that he needed to change out of his suit first. Wade grabbed his clothes with a huff out of his closet and walked over to the bathroom.

Peter placed the pancakes carefully in the car. Most of them were still intact, save a few dozen. When Wade got back, he was wearing a cat taco galaxy shirt and jeans with a hat.

When they got there close to twenty minutes later, Peter turned to Wade with a stern look on his face. "So help me, if you act like an idiot I'll take that gun from Walmart and shoot you in the face." He threatened, knowing full well Wade would be fine anyways.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Wade rolled his eyes, but a grin popped up on his face. Peter regretted that threat immediately, because he was sure that Wade was going to say something stupid now. As Wade parked the car, they were greeted by an older looking man wearing a suit.

"I assume you are Peter and Wade?" The man asked in a British accent. Peter assumed this was the butler that Dick had mentioned.

"Uh, yeah." Peter nodded, slightly nervous. Peter got out of the car and grabbed some of the pancakes.

"I can help you with some of those if you like," Alfred smiled politely.

"Sure," Peter had about four bags piled on his arms. "By the way, Wade, you're officially banned from making any kind of meal."

"What? I didn't even make that many!" Wade complained, grabbing a few bags himself. The butler grabbed a bunch as well.

As they walked into the house, the butler, who Peter still didn't know the name of, opened the door and lead them straight to the dining room. Peter set his bags of pancakes on the table, as did the other two.

They went back to get the remainder of the bags, and when they were finished, Dick had come to the dining room himself to greet them. "Hey Peter! Wade." He gave a friendly smile.

"Hi." Peter smiled too.

"Oh, this is Alfred by the way," Dick motioned to the butler, who shook hands with each of them.

"Hey Alfred, could you call the others in for dinner please?" Dick asked as he sat down at the table. He invited Peter and Wade to sit on his right. The other three came in, all of them staring at the piles of pancakes and other people that they only vaguely recognized.

"Jason, Tim, Damian, this is Peter and Wade." Dick introduced.

"Wait, aren't you the guy who bought that gun at Walmart yesterday?" Jason looked at Wade, who nodded enthusiastically. The others kind of became a bit tense.

"Don't worry, I made sure he didn't bring any weapons with him." Peter intervened. Of course, he hadn't actually particularly checked, but his spidey-sense would have alerted him had he done so.

"Yeah, yeah," Wade waved the fact off.

"Let's just eat, shall we?" Dick decided. The others nodded in agreement.

A few minutes later, another man wearing a suit walked into the room. Peter instantly recognized him as Bruce Wayne.

"What in the world-?" Bruce stared at the table filled with pancakes questionably. He then turned to Alfred, who pointed to Dick, who pointed to Peter, who pointed to Wade, who was currently eating his fourth pancake. After a second, Bruce realized he didn't know who these two people were. Peter also took notice that he didn't even do a double-take on Wade's face. He glanced at Dick who shrugged. Bruce, deciding he'd better introduce himself, walked over and gave both of them a handshake, polite smile, and stated that his name was Bruce Wayne and that it was a pleasure to meet them.

"So...why so many pancakes?" Bruce looked at them both.

"It was all Wade. I go to my room, and he says that he's going to make pancakes for dinner, and I don't think anything of it. A few hours later, I'm wondering why making a couple of pancakes is taking so long, and just assume that I just didn't hear him call me out to eat them. I walk out to see _that._ " Peter motioned to the pile of pancakes all over the table.

"Oh come on, it's not even my record!" Wade gave a wicked smirk. The one Peter recognized as Jason paled slightly.

"What _is_ your record?" Tim asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"372,844." Wade smirked proudly.

"I am so glad I wasn't around to see that," Peter mentioned.

"...How?" Tim blinked. "How is that physically possible."

"I like to think I defy a lot of things that are said to be physically impossible." Wade smirked. Some of the family snorted in disbelief.

"I, for one, do not believe such a preposterous idea," The youngest one, Damian, spoke out.

"I'm sorry if I offend you with this question, but what exactly happened to your face? You don't have to answer if you don't want to." Bruce asked, genuine curiosity and a need-to-know look sparkling in his eyes.

"Well-" Wade started, but Peter interrupted.

"Don't believe everything he says, he likes making things overly dramatic." Peter warned them.

"As I was saying," Wade smiled, "Well, I was in a huge fire. Everybody else there either got out, or died, except me. I got some pretty bad burns."

"That's...actually the truth. Wow, did not actually expect that." Peter, of course, knew he was still lying, but hey, the Wayne's didn't. At least, he didn't think they did.

Either way, after dinner the two of them drove back with a bunch of leftover pancakes. They wouldn't really need any food for a long while.

"Well, they seemed nice," Wade remarked.


	8. Invitations

Spiderman decided it was high time he made an appearance. Wade was staying home, just in case. As he was swinging around, he spotted the batsignal.

Once he arrived on top of the police station's roof, he startled a man with graying red hair, a mustache, and a trench-coat. "Who are you?" The man looked him up and down, a glare forming.

"He's a friend," The oh-so familiar voice of Batman spoke from above. He leapt down next to him, Robin right behind.

"Spiderman, at your service." Peter bowed extravagantly. Now it was Batman's turn to glare.

"Aw..." Deadpool popped out from behind him. Peter yelped, webbing Deadpool to the wall.

"Oh, it's you." Peter frowned, crossing his arms. "I thought we agreed it'd be for the best if you didn't show your face."

"I'm not showing my face, that's the point of the mask!" Wade pointed out.

"You know what I meant! I swear if you kill anyone, you'll be plucking bullets out of your skull." Peter threatened, crossing his arms.

"Oh come on! Not even a little bit?" Wade complained.

"Who's this?" Batman gave Peter an even harder glare, his eyes narrowed into practical slits.

"This is Deadpool," Peter growled.

"Well, he isn't being very polite." Deadpool turned to face the readers. "Do you think I should jump off the building? I'm thinking yes, but I'm not sure."

"Who are you speaking with?" Robin crossed his arms, his face imitating Batman's.

"I'm doing it, I am so doing it. I wanna see their faces!" Wade smirked as he looked down. He extended his arms, and fell backwards. Batman didn't seem too worried, as he'd seen Spiderman pull the same stunt a few times. But then after there was a sickening crack, Batman, Robin, and the mustache-man ran over to the edge. Spiderman more casually walked over.

"He's...he's actually dead!" Mustache-man exclaimed.

"Really!" Peter widened his eyes, a wide smile underneath his mask. He swung down next to Deadpool, Batman and Robin grappling down after him. "Eh, he'll be fine in a few hours."

"What do you mean he'll be fine in a few hours?" Batman glared harshly at Spiderman.

"He heals fast." Spiderman shrugged.

"Not if it's an injury too bad to heal from." Batman's gravely voice seemed to be trying to reach Peter.

"Actually, I think he's banned from dying." Spiderman sighed.

"Right you are, Spidey! It's too bad, though, because Lady Death is really hot. Stupid Thanos and your stupid infinity gauntlet." Deadpool grumbled, his body slowly piecing itself back together on the ground.

"Amen to that last part," Peter shuddered, remembering being stuck in the soul stone. Batman and Robin mostly just stared. "And you're going to go home, and you can slay some imaginary ninja's in your mind."

"Fine, but only because the author lady is making me," Deadpool peeled himself off the ground, some of his bones hanging out in awkward angles.

"Does that...hurt?" Robin raised an eyebrow.

"It used to," Deadpool shrugged. "Now I really don't feel it as much."

"Come on, let's go figure out what the cop dude wanted." Spiderman webbed his way to the top of the building to where the commissioner was waiting.

"Is he..." The commissioner asked, worry laced in his eyes.

"Nah, he's fine." Spiderman didn't even flinch when Batman and Robin landed on the roof next to him. "Now, what's up?"

"There's been sightings of a man said to be made from electricity and another guy said to be made from sand hitting up a few stores, making away with a few million in cash." The commissioner showed Batman some pictures, which he showed to Peter.

"Look familiar?" Batman asked.

"Mhmm." Peter nodded slowly. "I need a vacuum cleaner and a firetruck." He deduced.

"A...A vacuum cleaner?" Commissioner Gordon blinked.

"Well, do you have one? I mean, I make due with just the firetruck, but-" Peter frowned, but was cut off by the commissioner.

"No, no, I have one, it's just... Why a vacuum cleaner?" Gordon stared at Spidey, his expression completely confused.

"To suck Sandman into it, duh." Peter rolled his eyes, though none of them could see it, and Gordon nodded as if it was suddenly making sense.

"I can get you one, but it'll take minute." Gordon began walking inside the police station, and Peter turned back to Batman and Robin.

"Do you two think you can hold them off until I get there?" Peter asked, looking between the two, who both nodded at the same time. "Good, I'll be there ASAP."

Peter turned his head as he thought he heard something, his Spidey-sense telling him of something, but when he looked, there wasn't anything there. He shrugged it off, and as he turned back to where Batman and Robin were, they were gone. "How does he do that?" Peter asked aloud, astonished.

"I often ask the same question." Gordon came back up, a small vacuum in hand. "I've sent a few firetrucks up there already, they should be there by the time you arrive." He added, handing him the vacuum.

"Thank you, Commissioner. I don't get a whole lot of help from the police back home." Peter admitted truthfully. A second later and he took off towards the sound of the firetrucks, landing on one of them and hitching a ride. What? It wasn't like he could afford to waste his webbing.

The fight had been pretty low. Batman and Robin had them pretty exhausted, so Sandman didn't even notice Spiderman with the vacuum until it was too late, and Electro simply didn't have the energy to fight against the turret of water that came his way. Two down, four to go. Easy, right?

Peter went home, changed out of his costume, and walked in to see Wade with a sewing machine on the table. He was fully healed by now, and he was stitching up his costume where it had been torn on his fall. There was one thing bothering Peter though. "Where'd you get the sewing machine?"

"I asked the neighbors if they had one, and lucky for me..." Wade gestured down at the very old, yet functioning, machine that he was using.

"Just make sure to give it back. And give them five bucks or something for letting you borrow it." Peter sighed, deciding he'd rather not talk to Wade longer than necessary. He plopped down onto his mattress, grabbing his phone from the charger.

He sighed as he had three new messages from Dick.

 _D: Hey_

 _Thanks for the pancakes again, Alfred really appreciated not having to cook._

 _Anyways, Bruce is having a gala thing next weekend, and you and Wade are welcome to come. Just make sure to wear a suit and tie. If you need one, I can lend you one._

 _P: Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds fun. I'm not sure if Wade'll come, but I'll ask._

That was a lie. Peter wasn't going to ask Wade.

Oh come on! What'd I do wrong! How come I'm not getting invited!

 **Think of it as petty revenge, Wade. Petty revenge.**

I'll show you petty revenge, Sparky. You have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into.

 **Let's just get back to the story, it's two in the morning and I'm tired.**

Fine, fine, but I will exact my revenge at some point!

 _D: Great, I'll let Bruce know you're coming. :)_

 _P.S., they really aren't that fun, just a forewarning, I just want someone to be there that's closer to my age and that isn't my brother._

 _P: It's fine, don't worry about it._

 _D: You're sure? ;)_

 _P: Positive_

 _D: Alright, I'll take your word for it_

 _P: Anyways, how's your ankle?_

 _D: Oh, it's almost completely healed. Al says I can take it off tomorrow, actually._

 _P: Cool._

 _D: Meh, I can walk on my hands just as good as I can on my feet, so it really doesn't bother me much_

 _P: Interesting_

 _D: Yeah, I guess_

 _P: Hey, I'm going to head to sleep, but I guess I'll see you next weekend?_

 _D: Oh, right! It's on Saturday at 7:00, Wayne Manor. I should probably head to bed to. But yeah, see you next weekend._


End file.
